Fall of the Colossus
by bloiffy
Summary: Wander finds himself embroiled in a tragiromcom with the sixteenth colossus. Will all of his dreams come true in this epic space saga set in a Japanese high school? And when he dares to dream of a new life, will his dreaming end? What dreams may come...
1. Chapter 1

The Wanderer awoke, alone, alone again, once more. The wind whistled through pillars, bathed in bleak light. The light of an almost-lost hope.

He pulled himself up, painfully, slowly, inexorably to his feet, and surveyed himself. Clothes, tattered, torn, worn to shreds, skin blackened and hair shorn, no longer the colour of corn. He staggered out into the misty morn.

"Blorn," he said, mouth full of muck and vomit. His face, once soft and pure like an angel's, was now covered in scars. The mud was only washed away by tears, two rivulets marked cleanly down the sides of his face.

"LO," said the voice of God, high above, high and mighty and soaring above, like the wings of loving love he felt for Mono. Mono, who lay dead, died for him, his sins. His lust. Needs must. He'd do a deal with this God of Hellfire, and bring fire to the Colossi. The voice continued, echoing down upon him: "THOU HAST TO PRITHEE MILADY TO THINE SIXTEENTH COLOSSUS BETWIXT HITHER AND THITHER AND THINE SHALL FIND DEATH IN THE BRINE, CALVIN KLEIN."

The Wanderer understood, and resigned himself to another fateful encounter. He had thought that fifteen had fallen, and then all would be well, but it seemed that even this was not enough. Another must die. Another must fall. Fate must again be tempted, like a young virgin with luscious breasts might tempt a young boy, like the Wanderer, into rubbing his huge beguiling member between them, until he ejaculated onto her face. Yes, The Fates must again be tempted, just like that. The Wanderer took a deep breath, and leapt onto Aggro, his trusty horse and only ally in this unending torrent of battle.

"Keeeyaaaah!" Wanderer-chan cried, moving his hips violently to spur Aggro on. "Faster! Quick, my steed. Hurry me in the direction of my mighty sword's holy light."

And Aggro did. Through countryside so beautiful, the likes of which have rarely been seen. The frame rate dropped, but it was more than made up for by the lush vegetation and epic open ranges that the Wanderer urged Aggro across, ever closer to his climax: The orgasm of a violent, bitter battle against a huge, terrifying beast.

The Wanderer had travelled for so long now that he thought his legs would break from spurring Aggro ever onward. He pounded against Aggro's sides with his strong, youthful, but oh so tired limbs, and with the flat of his sword, he spanked Aggro's thick, equine buttocks.

At long last, he arrived, his horse following a narrow path into a dale filled with greenery of such beauty that it would surely push even a PS2 to its limit to render such an awe-inspiring scene in real-time. In fact, The Wanderer doubted that even the power of such a magickal contraption could render it with an acceptable frame-rate.

He dismounted Aggro, for there was a patch of green-coloured rock that only he could climb ahead, rock that stretched around the side of a large ditch. And he did climb it. Hand over hand at first, but he soon realised that jumping diagonally was the least tiring way to reach the other side. There, he headed down into the dale, which was filled with beautiful flowers. The sun burned overhead, a huge firey discus planted in the sky by a byzantine God, perhaps even the God that commanded him now. The Wanderer's progress was barely slowed by the exhaustion that filled him, because an even great force prevailed: Desire.

He held that most holy of relics, his stolen sword, aloft to the skies, and it sang. The glow cut a swath through the grasses around him and there at the end of it...

Her iridescent sapphire eyes were glowing azure, and they hinted at a gentle sadness. She looked up in shock as the beam of light from his sword speared toward her, and he returned with his own look of shock, taken almost by force, sexually, a gentle rape, by her delicate beauty. He dropped the sword without a word.

The scene was so artistic: She was a beautiful maiden. Her hair like a silver sun that led Wanderer to her. Her eyes like the Mediterranean Sea, a sea of another world unknown to him. She sat, yet stood tall as a paragon of female perfection. Pure and simple. She almost seemed to glow. And yet he stood in sharp relief to her. Blackened, charred. His clothes barely holding fast around his tight musculature. He walked toward her, eyes wide and unblinking and sat down beside her, his face close to hers, eyes never leaving hers.

"Hello," said the Lady, her voice like a song. Her hair shimmered in the breeze as she shifted position. "Why do you stare at me so?"

"Because you are... so beautiful," said the Wanderer, lost in her eyes.

She laughed, like the tinkling of Heaven's bells. "What is your name, weary wanderer?"

"My name," he breathed, his voice like gravel in a driveway of death. "I... have no name. Other than David."

She laughed again. "Then perhaps I shall call you Wanderer. My name is Kristinos Angelika, and I am the Sixteenth Colossus, sent to test you. But come! Let us laugh, and enjoy each other's company a while."

"But you are my enemy! Thee who hast stood in minest way to save my beloved, as God has spake in these very words, I must striketh thee down!"

"Your words... are so nostalgic." Kristinos's sad eyes seemed to peer into another world. "I have seen religions who follow the voice of a God as if it were the One Truth, and all it led to was hatred, and suffering. Xtians just don't understand the deeper mysteries of the universe." Kristinos sighed, sadly, and looked at Wanderer, who could not possibly understand such high truths. "Anyway. Shall we engage in something such as social intercourse? Sit close to me, for warmth."

"I... I am unsure," Wanderer stammered.

"You do not look unsure to me," Kristinos indicated with her delighted eyes that alighted upon the Wanderer's crotch. A tear in his trousers had unlocked his most secret treasure trove. Wanderer's cheeks flushed with blood as he was filled with embarrassment, just as his cock was flushed rigid with blood due to his undeniable arousal. It stood, his True holy sword, jutting forth, pointing skyward. His gaze fell upon it, and he saw that indeed a glowing light shone forth from his vas deferens, indicating this new challenge's glowing weak spot. Her wet cunt.

With one hand she lifted her delicate dress, revealing the weak spot.

"Go on, my Wandering Prince! I have waited so long for someone as beautiful as you to ease away the pain of my virginity, to end my agony. Go on, my love. Penetrate my 'vital point'!"

And with that, The Wanderer was filled with lust and rage. He grabbed her shining tresses and held onto them. She swung her head around in a thousand ecstasies and he found it difficult to hold on. But he held fast in the end, strength coursing through his veins. Especially the veins of his twenty-six inch penis, which was thicker than a baby's wrist and pulsing with raw emotion.

"Do it, Wanderer. I'm life's bad bitch, and nobody can understand me. Finish me now!"

Wanderer clambered into position, above the glowing Vital Point. When he was confident he was in the right place, he arched backwards, clenching his buttocks until they felt like two peaches about to burst, until every ounce of strength was ready to stab that Holy Member into the soft yielding flesh.

And he thrust.

"Oh, Valhalla!"

It went in all the way first time. Blasts of liquid gushed forth like angry spikes, except that these were not black and filled with tainted blood as the other Colossi had within them, but purest white. White like her silver hair. White like her rosy skin. White like the semen that had swept forth from his huge cock. White like the dress that she wore, before he had torn it open to expose, yes, her white breasts. Everything about her was so white and pure.

Wanderer screamed as she died.

A hundred thousand leagues away, Mono stirred.


	2. Chapter 2

Wander's feet felt like lead, his head was dead, filled with bread. He pulled himself forward, step by step, his huge muscular legs, like slender treetrunks, propelled by the Power of Love. Another few paces and he'd be atop the flight of stairs leading into the shrine, and his lover, his onee-sama, his angel-tenshi-princess... she would be among the living once more.

Atop the stairs, he heard the delicate whinny of his own dear Aggro. He began to call out to his steed, until his eyes fell upon the pedestal on which Mono, his own dear love, had been laid.

What in Dormin's name is this?

There, writhing in shameful, painful, maneful esctasy, was Mono. She had awoken! The spell was broken! Her clothes were ... soakin'?

Soaken, like Wander's had been with the blackened, tangy black blood of boundless colossi brethren.

Soaking ... with betrayal.

Betrayal and horse semen.

Wander's delicate features seized in disgust and slight arousal at the shocking, mocking, rocking, horse cockin' tableau before him. Mono was awake, yes, but she was not alone. There, blissfully unaware of his presents, was Agro, his mighty sword buried balls-deep in the girl Wander had fought so hard to recover. KYAAAAAAAAH, betrayal! Finally, Agro's secret Colossus was revealed. It might be hiding deep in Mono's virgin slit as Agro, with one horsey hoof, mangled her tits, but oh, it was there. The black steed neighed loudly as Mono squeezed around his mighty stallionhood.

"Agro, I..." he brought some of the delicious lizard flesh he had caught earlier in the day back up into his mouth, "I don't understand." One hand sought inside the folds of his cape and fingered the string of beads that hung there. "I thought you were MY soeur! I GAVE YOU MY ROSARY!" he screamed. Apparently oblivious, Agro continued his pounding like a Texas oil derrick, throwing Mono's body around like a plush little fuck toy. (FIND THE TERM FOR THAT CREEPY MASK-FACED COSPLAY PORN)

"I... I have to stop this," Wander realised, dark tentacles of hate and rage and betrayal lancing though his soul. At once he knew what he had to do. He took the spoiled rosary in his clasped hands and fell to one knee. "By the Eyes of the Virgin Mary, this gives me the power to USE time! SECRET SEVENTEENTH COLOSSUS WALKTHROUGH FAQ REMINISCENCE MODE! I place this rosary... cross down!" It glowed. "I only hope my grip meter is strong enough to hold on as I use this," he thought to himself.

It was some hours ago. Agro, growing tired of waiting for his sempai to return from engorging the 16th Colossus Kristinos Angelika, made his way back to the Temple of Dormin. He moved stealthily, but for what reason? Wander was about to find out.

Agro slowly made his way up the stairs and into the interior of the temple. Warily he approached the pedestal where Mono, his secret, frequent, piquent, freaklit lover, lay still and unmoving. Agro looked long and hard at the body of the girl below him. It had been a long time, almost as long as the 47 inches of hard, horny, erect horse penis that presented itself now, swelling in arousal at the smell of Mono's untouched maidenhood inches away. Should he? Would he? Could he? Agro's emotion engire roared into life like a lonely colossos of the loins.

Shiftily he glanced left, then right. With one smooth movement, Agro's forehoofs landed on the pedestal as he mounted it, and the woman atop it.

And then she awoke, and for the first time Mono knew... teh emotion of shame.

"KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-"

The sound of her pleasure/pain rocked Wanderer's world, refraining through the hallowed hall.

"-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-"

Even in Reminiscence Mode, Wanderer could feel the Earth move.

"-YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAH! MMMM!"

Mono's birth-cry, the first word that she uttered upon her resurrection, was none other than the familiar cry of a woman being fucked by a horse.

Wanderer's head was purple with rage. He remembered when he had first given Aggro his rosary, holding the beads wide apart for his huge horse-friend. He remembered the bliss of Aggro's insertion. And now it all meant nothing. NOTHING !

An electronic beeping filled his world. HIS GRIP METER! Even with his rosary and his technique it wasn't strong enough to sustain this hardcore horse axxxion for so long. The cold stone of the temple caressed his cheeks once more and he was back in the present, alone with the shame and the betrayal. Wordlessly he crawled behind one of the stone pillars and hugged his long, smooth legs to his chest; big, shiny tears rolling down his shotalicious face. If only there were a big strong bishy to dress him in girls' clothes and hug (also fuck) away the tears and the sadness. But he had never needed that before, because he had always had Agro, and now Agro was gone, stolen by that woman who he had worked so hard to please. He had dreamed of women often, those strange carnivorous creatures that he found in rock pools at the shore sometimes and would trap using hunks of raw flesh as bait. How many times had he woken screaming as the giant women in his dreams pursued him and tore him to pieces and shit. Always he rolled over into the hooves of his beloved steed and would cry himself to sleep in Agro's sweet-smelling mane which he sometimes pretended was a wig.

That woman. He remembered the first time he saw her, working as an intern at a hospital. Occasionally he would sneak into the morgue to see what cold, fleshy delights he could find. And there she was. She had the body of an angel. Killed in a ritual in order to placate their Gods, she was perfect. He took her, there and then, spending his load into her, pumping her lifeless corpse full to burst with his load of life-seed. But it was not enough! He kept her for months, treating her as his secret girlfriend, showering her with gifts, of pretty dresses, and occasionally, his lukewarm semen. Then one day he wiped her down, dressed her up and set off. It was not enough, not at all. She must live, lest she decompose further. Her vagina was already beginning to secrete the stench of ancient semen, and also, death.

He slung her over Aggro, and took her to the Forbidden Lands. Forbidden because of the power they held. The power he'd wield. His love was his shield. It lived in a field. It was a love that he'd never yield. Not even for Yvette Fielding, with whom he'd once done a deal. She knew about spirits, and how to heal. He'd paid for the meal.

She shewed him to the place where Dormin rested. Those naughty, naughty Forbidden Lands. Naughty. Bleak and dead and so old, and such. That was where it had truly begun.

The last of his grip meter expired, and with it, the rosary fell from his hands, tinkling onto the cold stone floor. At the same instant Agro reared up in triumph, his mane billowing in the wind, and gave a neigh of victory as he blew his pent up ungulate load up Mono's Castle's front door. Fortunately Agro hadn't found the secret route via the Star Road to Mono's back door yet, but it could only be a matter of time. Wander knew he had to hurry if he wasn't to lose everything, even for a horse Agro had a very short refractory period, he'd already beaten the time attack sex mode and got the Mr. Hands mask. Even so... perhaps there was a way to undo all of this. He looked up at the vaulted ceiling and knew at once what he must do.

It had already seemed like a lifetime since they had all been at school together: he and Agro had been late for their first class, but even so they stopped to pray at the statue of the Virgin Mary at the fork in the gingko-tree lined road.

"Waaah! We're going to be late!" Wander shouted as they ran towards their classroom. "KYA!" he shouted in shock as he slammed head-on into another girl who was also running. They went flying and when Wander came to he saw she was unconscious on the floor, her pantsu showing in a way that made him have a nosebleed and a raging erection. That was truly the first time he ran into Mono... but before he had forgotten, because of the GFs.

Mono. She was like a disease that brought a fever to his glands. He junctioned his love points to his dick size and jerked it that night, jerked it slowly and lovingly, whilst always thinking of that bulge in her panties where her huge vagina lay.

Yes, it would be in those sepia-coloured high school days that he would find the Truth.


End file.
